


no ransom to be paid

by MirrorImage003



Series: Zutara Month 2018 [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Pirate AU, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, it's gonna be hella unrealistic but also hella fun, katara has no chill but once again what's new, quartermaster!zuko, zhao is a dick but what's new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-09-13 12:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16892292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorImage003/pseuds/MirrorImage003
Summary: A ransomed noblewoman with a bark equally as bad as her bite, a cruel Captain with a shady background, a crew on the verge of mutiny, and a tired Quartermaster reaching his last limits... [or, a zutara pirate au]





	1. stuff of nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> From Day 2: Hidden Identity of Zutara Month 2018.
> 
> [[ _Yokai_ are strange and supernatural creatures from Japanese folklore, usually translated to mean "monster, demon, spirit, or ghost."]]

“Captain says to bring the Yokai on deck.”

Zuko barely restrains himself from rolling his eyes. “Then go get her.”

“Says he wants you to do it.”

This time he does roll his eyes. But Captain’s orders are Captain’s orders, and it wouldn’t look good to the rest of the crew if their quartermaster showed signs of in-subordinance. Especially since their Captain was already walking on thin ice.

Zuko adjusts the sword at his side and dutifully pushes himself off of the beer barrel he had been relaxing on. Begrudgingly, he makes his way across the deck towards the captive’s cell. He is still a good fifteen feet from the iron bars when he hears her now familiar obscenities.

“—your Captain’s too much of a coward to unchain me? I guess I shouldn’t have expected more from a third-rate pirate.”

A few crew members lounge around her pit, drinking and polishing their weapons. Some of them even seem to be choking down laughter at her stupidly arrogant insults. When they see Zuko heading over, they hastily clear their throats and attempt to look busy.

“Don’t you idiots have better things to do than entertain the Yokai?” But his reprimand is half-hearted at best, more out of obligation than out of real anger.

The Yokai (as the crew had dubbed her after the first three nights witnessing her incessant verbal abuse) immediately spots his approach, and the flash of her pearly teeth _almost_ intimidates him. He knows he’s heard her real name at some point in the last few weeks, but it slips from his memory like a wisp of smoke.

“Ah, so he’s sent his right-hand man to attend to me this time? Is this some form of dimwitted flattery?”

The urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and let out a weary sigh is overwhelming, but he simply fishes a key out of his trouser pocket and sets to work on the rusted lock.

“Nothing to say to me? What, you aren’t growing bored of your favorite prisoner, are you?”

“You’re our only prisoner.” He hoists the iron bars up and over, and they swing to the other side of the pit with a loud clang.

She grins at him and merely holds up her shackled wrists. Two crew members grip her by her upper-arms and lift her up onto the deck.

Her pale blue silk dress is covered in salt and grime that stain the expensive fabric a murky grey. Her hair has long since been ruined from its previously intricate updo and has now been messily braided into one long plait. Dirt smears across her cheeks, and her overall appearance more closely resembles a tavern prostitute than the noblewoman they had first seized. And yet, the light behind her eyes gives away no fear or weakness.

“Is that bastard you call your Captain finally going to do away with me? Perhaps make me walk the plank in some gaudy, terribly average fashion? Or maybe he’ll cut me open with his sword, so that I can be a gutless fish just like him.”

He hears a few snorts among the small crowd that has now gathered, and Zuko doesn’t even have the loyalty in him to pretend to punish them. It might be a different story had their relatively new Captain actually proven himself worthy of their support, but in the past few months since he had taken charge over them, his selfish decision-making and cruel ambition had lost him the initial respect of his crew.

Before she can hurl any more insults, the door to the Captain’s cabin is flung open.

Zhao levels a coldly furious stare at the woman before he seems to forcefully reign his temper in. A brittle smile curls his lips and he slowly paces towards her. The hair on Zuko’s neck stands slightly on end, and he doesn’t quite understand why he has the urge to step bodily between them.

“I’m afraid, my dear, that you won’t be dying today.”

“What a pity. And here I was thinking that you had finally grown yourself a set of balls.”

A muscle in Zhao’s jaw ticks, but his control remains intact. He merely keeps walking until he is towering over her. To the woman’s credit, she does not budge an inch and only tilts her head up to meet his eyes.

“Don’t be mistaken, girl. Nothing would please me more than to rid my ship of your filthy existence,” he pauses to cast a disdainful glance over her admittedly dirty form, “However, someone from your home is bound to pay a handsome price to get you back, and I do intend to collect.”

There is a second of tense silence that Zuko half-expects will end with the woman clawing at Zhao’s eyes, but she makes no such move.

Instead, a violent kind of laughter forces its way out of her mouth, and her eyes look at their Captain with mocking amusement. When she speaks, every word rolls off her tongue like she is tasting the finest wine in all the seven seas.

“All my family are dead, I have no money, and I have no friends. It looks like you’ll be waiting an awful long time before you collect anything.”

Zhao is statue-still, and Zuko is sure that this will be the final straw. But Zhao only leans the slightest bit forward so that his nose is just shy of touching the woman’s, and Zuko cannot help the rush of unease that sweeps through him.

“Your value for ransom was the only thing protecting you on my ship. But now, it looks like I’m free to _collect_ the one thing you do have that’s still useful.”

With a final smug look, Zhao spins on his heel and disappears into his quarters, the doors shutting behind him with a click.

The crew is uncomfortably silent, and a shiver of revulsion ripples through the crowd. Zuko, not unaffected by this turn of events, suddenly realizes that he, like his crew, has grown somewhat fond of the woman’s presence over the last two weeks they’ve been imprisoning her, and Zhao’s threat is further fostering the resentment and rage he feels towards his Captain. The strength of his attachment to her catches Zuko off guard, unsettling him.

He expects the woman to be shaken by her impending doom, but when he turns to look at her, there is only calm indifference in her expression. If he didn’t know any better, he would almost say that there is a glint of calculated anticipation in her eyes as she is led back to her pit.

It is not until later that night that he understands why.

Zuko is in the middle of recording inventory of their food rations when Zhao enters the ship’s hold. He spares the Captain a short glance before continuing to shuffle through the heavy crates of meat and beer.

“Quartermaster.”

“Captain?”

“When you’re finished here, bring that bitch up to my cabin.”

Zuko’s hands freeze over a loaf of moldy bread. He can feel his pulse picking up underneath the thin skin of his neck and he turns to eye the Captain’s weathered face. The self-satisfaction that he sees there pulls Zuko’s lips into a grimace.

“That might not be entirely wise, Captain. The crew’s grown to fancy her quite a bit. Maybe even more than they fancy you at the moment.” There’s a hard edge to his voice that wipes the smirk from Zhao’s face.

“Is that a threat?”

Zuko subtly wraps his left hand around the dagger at his side. “Just telling you how it is, Captain.”

An ugly sneer twists the older man’s features. “I always knew you were a bastard, but I never took you to be a traitor as well. I’m not asking again, _Quartermaster_. If she’s going to be eating up our reserves, she might as well make herself useful and spread her fucking legs.”

It’s almost enough to burst what little self-control Zuko still possesses, but Zhao doesn’t wait for a reply and he’s gone before Zuko can put intent to action.


	2. a proper job interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ransomed noblewoman with a bark equally as bad as her bite, a cruel Captain with a shady background, a crew on the verge of mutiny, and a tired Quartermaster reaching his last limits... [or, a zutara pirate au]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Day 18: Diplomatic Solution of Zutara Month 2018
> 
> This has been on my Tumblr for a while but I am just now getting around to posting it on here! Thanks for the patience, and brownie points to everyone who predicted this totally cliche and cheesy ending, because apparently I've lost my ability to be original lmao

The woman is uncharacteristically quiet when he arrives well past sunset to unlock her iron bars. Zuko’s blood is still simmering in his veins, but he is gentle with her as he lifts her from her prison.

Before he can think to avoid her shrewd gaze, she’s stopping him with a surprisingly strong hand on his shoulder and turning him to face her.

“We can help each other.” Her voice is low and steady, and a shiver travels down his spine.

“I can’t release you, and even if I did, where would you go? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of the—”

She shakes her head, cobalt eyes seeming to glow in the light of the moon above them. “No. I don’t want you to release me. I want you to help me so that I can help us both.”

His dark brows furrow in confusion. “What the hell are you going on about, Yokai?”

“Katara. My name is Katara. And what I’m telling you is that I can get rid of Zhao, right here, right now. But first, I need your dagger.”

He thinks his heart might have skipped a few beats, and when the words fully sink in, he takes a moment to truly look at her. Her eyes are crystal clear and her chin tilts up in a stubborn angle, lips pressed into a determined line. 

“Why?”

The breath she inhales through her nose trembles just the slightest bit, and it’s the first moment of raw vulnerability that he’s seen from her in the entirety of her two weeks on their ship.

“One year ago, my husband and my two children were sailing across the Wan Sea to join me in Ba Sing Se where I was studying to be a healer. Seven days into their voyage, their travelers ship was ambushed by a small band of rogue pirates who claimed that they were sent by their captain to take the ship’s gold. There were seven casualties. My husband and my children made up three of the seven.”

She does not cry, and her voice does not waver, but he hears the grief all the same.

“I don’t know what two children could possibly do or say to incur a pirate’s wrath, but it can’t possibly justify a death sentence. And after I heard the news, the only thing I had left was the name of my family’s murderer.”

“Zhao.”

She holds his gaze and a breath of understanding passes between them. It was not an accident that she was on their ship.

Zuko’s voice is solemn and tinged with warning. “How do you know you can succeed in killing him?”

“Those with nothing left to lose will always fight harder than those only looking to gain.”

Inwardly, his respect for her doubles.

“Why do you think this will help me?”

One slender brow arcs in a gesture that brings her back to her usual dry, witty self. “Quartermaster, I would have to be blind, deaf, and dead to miss how spectacularly unpopular your Captain is aboard his own ship.” Her expression morphs into something softer, something more honest. “You’ll make a much better Captain. The crew already respects your authority more than that asshole’s. The only reason they haven’t already committed a mutiny is probably because they are waiting for your cue.”

He scowls. “Flattery won’t get you any favors from me.”

The whites of her eyes flash at him as she rolls them. “I’m not flattering you, you idiot. And even if I was, that doesn’t make it untrue. Look, we don’t have a lot of time, and while I would much rather prefer having your help in this, I’ll do it on my own if I have to.”

Zuko purses his lips, eyes roaming over her face. There’s tension in her jaw that he hadn’t seen before and her chest rises and falls at a faster pace than normal, but the unrelenting steadiness in her gaze is what wins him in the end.

He watches his own hands give her his Uncle’s dagger almost as if he’s exited his own body and is looking on from above. His eyes rake across her smooth skin when she lifts her skirts and tucks the knife into the waistband of her undergarments. Dread and excitement wrestle each other in his stomach as he leads her towards Zhao’s quarters, and overall, Zuko is overwhelmed with the urge to drown himself in the dark waves on the horizon.

With a final look of determination, she disappears through the heavy double doors into the candlelit Captain’s cabin, and then there is only the sound of the sea and the moon over his head. 

Crew members approach him with their usual questions or come to offer their quartermaster a beer or two, but Zuko remains where he stands just outside the Captain’s doors. 

Ten minutes and he hasn’t heard a sound.

Fifteen, and he can’t stop fiddling with his sword.

It is just past the twenty-minute mark when he hears a muffled thump that has his head jerking up in alarm.

After a few tense seconds, the doors are abruptly pulled open, and Zuko watches the woman’s—Katara’s—figure step into the threshold. 

The candlelight behind her contrasts starkly with the light from the full moon above so that he can only make out the edges of her cheekbones, the glow of her eyes, and the rise and fall of her chest. His breath hitches.

The crew slowly begins to sense the shift in the atmosphere, especially since many of them had been acutely aware of any activity in that particular area since watching Zuko escort Katara into the lion’s den earlier. One by one, they shuffle towards the Captain’s doors until there is a crescent of rugged pirates surrounding her silent shadow.

Zuko watches her wait for them to settle, watches her raise her chin in a motion that he can’t decide is strength or nervousness. 

And then he watches her raise her right arm, Zhao’s severed head dangling in her slim, noblewoman’s hand. Her left is clutching their dead Captain’s glinting sword, the bloody tip dragging on the ground.

 _Strength_ , he decides.

“I’ll understand if you decide to execute me, and I will not fight your decision, as it is your right to end my life for the life of your Captain’s.” Her voice is calm and rings clearly over the sound of the ocean waves. “But, your Captain was not a man worthy of following, and I suspect that many of you are in agreement with me. He was vicious, selfish, and cruel, and he would have led you to ruin, not glory. Which is why I have provided you with the opportunity for a more appropriate option.”

Her gaze lands on him, and Zuko feels a thrill of adrenaline shoot down his spine. It only intensifies when he realizes that every other eye has also turned to him. 

“Captain Zuko has a fairly nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Her grin is just big enough for him to see it through the dark.

At first the deck is silent, hardly a soul daring to breath. 

Then, like the sound of the opening canon shot in a battle, his first-mate Lu Ten shouts, “All in favor of Captain Zuko!”

As a chorus of approving shouts flood his senses, Zuko does not break eye-contact with Katara. Something passes between them, and if he were a more romantic kind of man, he might call it fate.

Predictably so, the crew votes to spare Katara’s life, and the next hour has Zuko bouncing from one of his mates to the other, always being greeted with the smell of freshly poured beer and sent on to the next with a hearty slap on the back.

All too soon, it is late in the night and half of the—his, he thinks with a start—half of his crew are passed out over crates of supplies or across each other. The other half continue to drink in celebration, different folk songs being carelessly butchered with the exuberance of men well past their body’s tolerance.

Zuko finds himself leaning on the edge of the helm, enjoying the cool sea breeze that calms his flushed cheeks.

At the sound of light footsteps, he looks up to see the woman—Katara, he amends—make her way to him. She stops a few feet away, bringing one hand to rest on the ship’s wheel. 

She’s changed from her blood and salt stained dress into a pair of loose trousers and a cream-colored tunic that might have been white at some earlier point. The sleeves, that he assumes would normally fall long past the tips of her fingers, are rolled up to her elbows, and he infers that she has raided one of his men’s wardrobes. Her hair, however, is what truly transforms her appearance. Instead of the precise updo or fraying braid, it hangs utterly unencumbered, falling in loose waves over her shoulders.

For once, he is the one to begin the conversation. 

“Of all the people aboard my ship, you were the last person I expected to perform a coup d’état.”

She chuckles softly in response, and he finds that he likes the sound. “Well, that was the goal.”

She comes to stand beside him, leaning her forearms on the wooden rail. Her expression is the most relaxed he’s ever seen it, and he knows that a large part of her has now found peace.

He’s a little too buzzed to care that he’s staring. “So, what’s next for you?”

Her shoulder bumps his and the playful shine to her eyes tells him it was purposeful. “I’ve noticed that there’s a shameful lack of feminine representation on board your ship, Captain.”

Zuko grins. “Then you obviously haven’t seen Chan when he’s had too much rum.”

Katara snorts lightly, elbow jabbing him in the ribs. “ _As_ I was saying... I think you ought to fix this grossly disproportionate issue as soon as possible.”

“You’re right, I should. Now, where to find some feminine representation...”

The punch she levels at his arm stings more than he was expecting it to, and the laugh he lets out is so natural that it sounds foreign to his own ears. 

“Is that supposed to convince me of your femininity? Because I’m fairly certain you hit harder than most of my crew.”

She sniffs haughtily, but he can see her lips pursing in an effort to refrain from smiling. “Perhaps I’ll just take my extremely _proper_ and _dainty_ female presence to another Captain’s ship where it’ll be better appreciated.”

“You could,” he turns to face her more fully, voice lowering in pitch, “but once they found what you’re truly capable of, I don’t think there’s a Captain alive who could see you as just another proper woman. You deserve a Captain and crew who know what you really are and aren’t afraid of it.”

His eyes are fixed on hers with a weight he can’t seem to hold back, and her eyelids flutter just the slightest bit. 

She tilts her head up. “Is that a job offer?”

His head tilts down, but there is space still between them that he carefully maintains. “It’s whatever you want it to be, Yokai.”

Her lips twitch and her whole face seems to soften.

“Then I suppose you’re stuck with me, Captain.”

He smiles. “Welcome aboard, Katara.”


End file.
